Beautiful Man
by Two Guns and a Knife
Summary: A not so happy or romantic but relatively short love story. The road to true love can be crooked, tricky and challenging. Stephanie Plum may be a coward but is she really that foolish? And what exactly is the Man of Mystery thinking? Theme Song: Somebody That I Used To Know by Gotye.
1. Bleak Night

**Bleak Night**

She unlocks the door of her small shabby untidy apartment and steps inside. She has just brought in a vicious biting kicking screaming skip, and for once everything is peachy and fine. Her t-shirt and jeans aren't torn. She's not bruised or covered in food and trash. Her current crappy car is still very alive, and she now has enough money to pay her rent. She thinks about doing a happy dance, but quickly decides she's too tired and wretched for that. She's got enough fun for one day even by her unorthodox standard. She sticks her head into the kitchen to check on her pet and continues her journey to the bedroom. Her cold murky lonely bedroom. She lets out a sigh and lies face-down on the squeaking narrow queen-size bed. She's all for being a tough strong woman. But she will be shamelessly lying to the whole Goddamn world and herself if she says she enjoys her solitude and independence. She hates being alone. She hates having to be on her own. She hates her too empty and complicated life. She hasn't kissed or been kissed for 91 days. She hasn't had sex for 1896 hours. And now she's dying and aching to feel a warm body next to her. A warm muscular body. A naked perfect body. An all too familiar body with smooth flawless Mocha Latte skin. The body belongs to the man she desperately wants but dares not have.

Because the price will—may—be too high.

She hides her face in her pillow and tries not to cry. She can't help feeling sorry for herself. Even though she knows she's the only one to blame. She has made too many irresponsible excuses. She has made too many foolish—no, idiotic decisions and stunning mistakes. And now it's too late. Her pride and dignity are the only things she has left. And they are stubbornly standing in her path. She's going to be 34 years old in less than 5 months, but her life is still a tangled mess. She doesn't have a decent car. She doesn't have a house of her own. She doesn't have food in her fridge and cabinets. She doesn't have money in the bank. And she doesn't know what to do or where to go. She has lost her way.

She closes her eyes and listens to the deafening silence. Loneliness. Helplessness. Hopelessness. Worries. Fear. She hates feeling weak. She always wants to be brave. But sadly she's never been smart and courageous enough to break free and break away from all her restraints. She just stood aside and watched herself become a prisoner of routines and old habits as time went by. She needs help. She needs love. She needs company and guidance. She wants happiness. But she also needs and wants to stay in her comfort zone. She doesn't want to cut ties with her small familiar world. She's not sure if she's ready for amazing adventures. She's too scared to find out if she really has it in her to jump off the cliff and fly and soar.

What if she falters?

What if she stumbles?

What if she fails?

What if no one is there to catch her when she drops and falls?

What if she gambles and loses it all?

How can she live if she can't have him?

How can she live if he doesn't want her?

How can she handle and deal with his rejection?

She tries not to think. She tries not to feel. She tries and tries to ignore the persistent longing in her gaping heart. She tries to pretend. She tries to deny. She tries to try and her tears finally fall as her heart cracks and breaks like a melting iceberg.

She sees no hope in her dim future.


	2. Cold Light

**Cold Light**

The worn pillowcase quietly absorbs her tears as her crying gradually ceases. She takes a moment to calm and collect herself. This is exactly the reason why she usually tries to avoid thinking about her future and life. It's way too depressing and always ends up in tears. Because once she opens the gate, the merciless flood of negative painful distressing thoughts, memories and facts will swallow her whole. She'll then be trapped in a swamp of self-pity, self-loathing and a sense of worthlessness for hours, days, or even weeks. A trip to the Land of Denial, on the contrary, is much more pleasant and easy. This is such a beautiful summer day, after all. No one should lock herself inside her small shabby rented home. Everyone should go to the beach and enjoy the sun and the smell of the sea instead of weeping like a child and feeling extremely sorry for herself. All your troubles will cease to exist the moment you turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to the world. She used to do that all the time, but now somehow she has gotten tired of the same meaningless trick.

It all started the day when Joe's kiss lost its charm.

It was just another typical pizza-ball game-beer-sex night. She had just finished her beer and second slice of pizza when Joe drew her into his arms and pressed his mouth against hers. She felt the touch of his parted lips. She felt the touch of his exploring tongue. She felt his desire. She felt his lust. But her heart, her soul, and the core of her being remained calm and numb. She felt no excitement. She felt no anticipation. She felt no passion. His kiss deepened. His eager hands moved under her shirt. He cupped her breasts. He pushed her down onto his chewed up couch. She, as always, didn't have to be a genius to knew what he wanted. Both the light and the TV were on, and she was torn in two. Her body wouldn't mind having an orgasm. But her brain simply wanted to watch the Yankees game. It didn't take long for her to make the obvious choice. She let Joe have his way. She didn't want to start another fight. And she had to fake in the end because she couldn't concentrate.

She closed her eyes to hide her true thoughts and real feelings. A part of her listened to Joe's moaning and ragged panting. A part of her kept focusing on Michael Kay's voice and cheering for the Yankees. She thought of Derek Jeter's charming smile. She thought of A-Rod's nice body. She thought of the ever so cute Eric Chavez. She inhaled and tasted the beer and garlic in Joe's breath and suddenly thought of Manny, Curt Schilling, Josh Beckett, and David Ortiz. She almost laughed out loud. And then it dawned on her that somehow their once enchanting kissing and magical lovemaking had become an almost boring routine. As if they had been married to each other for a thousand years. As if they had done both zillions and zillions times and thus lost interest. As if sex was but a duty and obligation to fulfill. Like taxes. Fucking annoying taxes. She quickly found an excuse afterward and did not spend the night. The first thing she did when she got home was taking a shower. A long, hot, thorough shower. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when she realized she didn't initiated kisses or kiss Joe back. Not even once. And for some reason it made her feel a little bit gleeful and eerily relieved.

That was 91 days ago.

Of course Joe did not stop kissing her the very next day, and she didn't actually turn her face away whenever he leaned in. But she did stop counting them as kisses. Because they did not count. Not anymore. They were but a contact of tongues, teeth, and lips. There was no feelings or affection involved. She had no idea if Joe'd taken notice of her lack of response. She didn't even bother to try to close her eyes and pretend he was someone else. Her body was in his arms. Her heart was never there. It was away with that someone else. The man she desperately wants but dares not have.

Ranger.


	3. Brave Wind

**Brave Wind**

Ranger...

Silently she whispers his name. Her body shivers. Her heart aches. She hasn't seen him in a too long while, and now all of a sudden she misses him like Hell. She wonders if he's in Syria fighting side by side with the rebels against Assad. She prays he is safe. She wishes she knows when he will be back. She longs for the feel of his body. She misses the touch of his lips. She wakes up remembering the mornings she woke up in his arms. She recalls the nights they lay tangled in each other before falling asleep. She will always remember the beautiful intensity of his deep, almost black eyes. She will always remember his soft husky voice in her ear. Till the day she dies. Till her tears run dry. But will she ever have the courage to be completely honest with him? She feels like laughing at herself. Her stupid, old self. Her dim-witted and cowardly self that was so used to lies, excuses and denials. Maybe she should go have a shower. She slowly sits up and sighs another sigh. The weather is too stuffy. Her face is a mess. Just like her life.

She turns on the water and lets it run down her face. Too bad it can't wash away all her woes and sorrows. Maybe a new shower head will help lighten up her mood. But it will have to wait. She needs the money for food, gas, shoes and rent. And she has just replaced her locks and security chain not long ago...1908 hours ago. 79.5 days ago. The day after the very last time she had sex with Joe, to be exact. And that night's event gave a brand new meaning to break-up sex: the sexual activity that leads to a final break up between 2 unhappy friends with benefits. You can't be referred to as lovers when, in fact, there's no real love involved, she dries herself with a towel and again insists.

She had been trying to slowly drift away from Joe ever since her sudden realization. She let him hook his finger into her collar and peek at her breasts. She let him wrap his arm around her waist. She let him "kiss" her lips. She stepped back to break the contact after 8 to 10 seconds. She always had other plans when he suggested pizza, beer, ball game and sex. She's never good at confrontation and has problem expressing her true feelings. Because she, just like her mother and sister, is afraid to upset and always willing to please. Shirley, her whiner of a cousin, never ever stops whining about anything and everything, but she does make her feelings extremely clear, on the other hand. Now Shirley is happily living with Eddie and their kids, while both she and Val are still struggling to cope with their lives. And they used to roll their eyes and snort when they thought about Shirley and her ridiculous nickname.

She puts on the clean clothes, shakes her head at herself in disgust, and start blow-drying her hair. And then that night Joe came and let himself in. She was already fast asleep. He got undressed and climbed into bed. And it was too late when she finally jerked awake. She blinked. She gasped. She pushed and shoved at the weight on top of her. Her fingers felt hair. She recognized the familiar mixture of cologne, garlic and sweat. She felt shocked and ashamed at her body's betrayal. She sensed his smile in the dim darkness. She became anger. She was enraged. Tears did not flow down her face. Her voice didn't crack. She knew everything had come to an end.

"Get out." She calmly—if not coldly—said. "We are done"

"Cupcake?" His smile faltered as he frowned in confusion, "Steph?"

"Get out, Joe." She said again, no longer feeling like slapping him across the face with all her strength. "It's over between us. Now get out. And don't come back."

"Oh, come on," He laughed. "You know you enjoyed it too."

She turned on the bedside light and got out of bed. She picked up his jeans, threw them at him, and pointed his gun at him. Her little tank top was still there. But she was not wearing her panties. "Get out. Now."

Something in her flat emotionless voice registered in his brain. He realizes his mistake. He didn't understand her fury and contempt. He became angry, felt humiliated, and left. Without leaving her keys or a backward glance. She went for another shower. She scrubbed herself clean. She made herself coffee. She didn't add sugar and cream. She drank the hot liquid. She felt hungry. She couldn't eat anything. She felt cheap. She felt easy. She felt sad. She felt relieved. She thought of all the time she had wasted. She didn't shed a tear. She was glad of it.

And she changed the locks and security chain the very next day.

She exhales a long breath. She can hear Rex running in his hamster wheel. She stops thinking about Joe Morelli and his boiling anger. It's no longer her business. She goes into the living room and turns on the TV. She watches the international news in silence. She thinks of Ranger. She wonders if she will ever be brave and smart enough to decipher the conflicting and confusing messages he gave her over the years. He's not exactly family material. He doesn't do relationship. His love doesn't come with a ring. He loves her in his own way. He doesn't share. There's no price for what they gave each other. And once she's in the Batcave, it's forever. She closes her eyes and thinks of the things he wants and doesn't want in life. Porsches, Mercedes, BMWs, badass trucks, and fine red wine. The unspoken words in his amused, serene gaze.

She was dreaming about Ranger that night. They were together in his heavenly king-size bed. Naked. The shock and disappointment she felt. The hurt and pain she experienced. The gaping hollow in her heart when she looked up and saw Morelli's grin. Why the freaking Hell is her life so complicated? She holds her head in her hands. She knows she'll probably start crying any minute. She widens her eyes and almost sprains her neck as she turns to look at her front door.

"Deep thoughts, babe?"


	4. Frozen Breath

**Frozen Breath**

_Is he thinner? Is his hair longer? Did somebody shoot at him? Is he hurt? Where has he been? Is everything OK? Is he OK?_

Thousands and thousands of questions rush into her head and make her dizzy. She's almost overwhelmed by her raging emotions. She's so glad he's back. She's so glad he's here. She's also afraid of the questions he may ask. What has he heard? What will he say? Why is he here? What should she do? What should she say? She tries to remain calm and assertive(like Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer, said) as Ranger starts walking toward her. She can't take her eyes off him. He doesn't appear to be hurt. She's grateful he's not walking with a limp. She doesn't want to burst into tears in front of him. Even if they are happy tears. Lord, how she's missed him. How she loves him. How she needs him. Ranger sits down beside her. She blinks and winces as her crappy couch squeaks like a startled zombie under his weight. The corner of his mouth twists up a bit. "Hey," She gives him a feeble smile and finally says. He looks like sin in black. And he, as usual, smells like Heaven. "How's business?"

"Got a call from Morelli when I got back this morning." Ranger says in a tone she can't decipher.

She turns her eyes away. She doesn't want to talk about Morelli. She doesn't want to think of Morelli. Why can't Morelli just evaporate into thin air without a trace and cease to exist? So that she can forget about him, about that night, about everything. She still startles awake from her nap. She still feels ashamed. She still feels unsafe. She still feels unclean. She keeps her bedside light on all night long, and has started thinking about having her niece's old softball bat within reach. And she hates herself for being weak, scared and silly. She knows Ranger is still waiting. But she has no idea what or how to tell him. It's not that she was raped or assaulted. Joe did have her keys. And they were still in a relationship. Well, sort of. She was still trying to figure out a way to break up with Joe without causing any hard feelings, resentment, drama, or complicacy. And he did not actually hurt her. At least not physically. But still.

She wonders what Morelli said. She's dying to know but is afraid to ask. It wouldn't be anything pleasant, she's sure of that. It was probably a threat or warning. Or even heated accusations. She wants to know how Ranger feels about it. She needs to know what he thinks. She knows it sounds stupid, but her future does rely on his thoughts and decisions. She musters whatever courage she has left and turns to lock eyes with Ranger. _It's now or never. _She whispers to herself silently. She takes a deep breath. She opens her mouth. She hopes her voice won't break or crack.

"I was dreaming about you." She didn't mean to cry. But suddenly her tears are here. "And he...and I..."

She stops talking. She can't say another word. She tries, but she just can't. It's too much. Too painful. Too foolish. Too brainless. Too Jersey Shore. Too Stupid Stephanie. Quietly she weeps. She doesn't turn her head away. She doesn't resist when Ranger wraps an arm around her and rests her head on his shoulder. Together they sit in silence. Rex has stopped running. She feels better. And braver. But has she become smarter? Will she start making better choices? Does she know how to make the right decisions? Can she stop making mistakes? She dries her tears and blows her nose. She wishes she knows all the answers. She has had enough of the uncertainty of future.

"I pointed his gun at his head and told him to leave." She continues in a tiny, shaky but not totally unsteady voice. "But I didn't...I didn't...I didn't tell him that I...I...I love you." She falls silent. She doesn't close her eyes. She stares at the buttons of Ranger's shirt instead. They are all black, of course. Ranger's breathing doesn't change. He doesn't draw her near. He doesn't push her away. Somehow she still feels comfortable and safe. "And that I couldn't be with him any more. I didn't want to." She finally adds and starts to wait. She's never good at waiting. She has basically no patience. And she's also never good at taking "No" for an answer. She's terribly, extremely and fatally scared of being rejected. It seems that her failed marriage has left her forever scarred.

"You pointed Morelli's gun at his head?" Ranger asks, his voice even and smooth.

She gives her head a nod, not over-vigorously. Her heart jumps at the hint of slight amusement she detects. _It wasn't my fault!_ She feels a strange urge to say, but doesn't get the chance to as Ranger starts to laugh. She can't help but smile. She simply loves it when he laughs. "I love you." Without thinking she says it out loud. "I really do."

"Babe," Ranger says, and kisses her. "I know."


	5. Clear Dream

**Clear Dream  
**

The kiss is brief. But tender. And sweet. She relaxes against him and feels like sighing. Once upon a time she persuaded herself all she ever needed from him was sex. There would be no love involved, no strings attached. Just an unforgettable night of ultimate pleasure. Just a brief moment of intimacy. Passion, lust, and indulgence. Nothing more. Nothing less. When the morning came, they would go back to their separate worlds and remained friends. Everything would be the same. Nothing would be changed. It would be no more than a pleasant memory, a little secret they shared. And her thirst would be quenched, her yearning fulfilled.

But her love for him had grown like Jack's magic beans over the years. The root dug deep into her soul. The branches clutched at her heart. The leaves whispered and teased her mercilessly in her dream. And she started wanting and longing for more, more, and more. Suddenly she wanted more than his perfect body. She wanted more than his beautiful eyes and soft full lips. She wanted him whole: his body, his love and his soul. She didn't give a damn about his dark secrets. She didn't give a damn about Joe Morelli's feelings. She didn't care what people—or her mother—would say or think. She wanted happiness. She deserved happiness. But she was—and still is—too afraid that he wouldn't want her. She was never brilliant and smart or drop dead gorgeous. She was far from perfect. Would he be able to love someone like her? Would she ever find the way to the Batcave? Would he slam the gate in her face or lock her in forever?

And now the truth is out. There will be no more cat and mouse game. There will be no more running away pretending. There is no turning back. She already has burned the bridge. Does it really matter if he's no family material? Does it really matter if his love doesn't come with a ring? Maybe. Maybe not. All she wants now is to be a part of his life. All she wants now is his love. All she wants now is his trust. All she wants now is to stay by his side till the end of time. But she will have to ask Ranger the question and accept his decision no matter what. It's not just about her. It's his life, too. A tiny smile finds its way to her face. The Queen of Denial has forfeited her throne. Who would have thought? She looks straight into Ranger's eyes. She has never felt this brave. She has never been this scared.

"Do you love me?" She quietly asks.

The heat radiating off his body is flat-out soothing. There's always something about him that makes her want to cling to him and purr like a cat. She blinks as he starts to smile. She suddenly realizes her hand is placed on his chest and right above his heart. He is so strong, so beautiful, and so alive. She almost sighs.

"I do." Ranger says.

"In your own way?" She faintly and hesitantly asks. He holds her prisoner with his enchanting gaze. The look on his face reminds her of the Sphinx. Serene. Enduring. Mysterious. Powerful. Amused.

"Babe,"


	6. Star Dust

**Star Dust  
**

What's the next step of their life's journey together? Should she keep her apartment? Will they move in together? Living arrangements. Everyday life trifles. Changes and adaptations. Adjustments and compromises. She thinks nearly dazedly to herself. Love versus reality. Batman meets Magnet for Disaster. Mr. Perfectly Organized and Well Prepared against World Famous Domestic Imbecile. Can it work? Can they make it work? Can she really take that almost casual "Babe," as a confession of love? Is that a love confession? Does he do love confession? Of course she's not expecting a red, red rose and a romantic dinner under the silvery moon. But it would be nice if he could be a little more specific. He's an enigma wrapped in a mystery hidden in a puzzle. And she gets confused so easily that someone should give her a gold medal or something...

Love is a strangest and most unpredictable, sneakiest thing. It drops upon you at a most unexpected moment and gives you no time to react. And he doesn't even know when he actually fell in love with Stephanie. He wonders why he can always read her mind and sense her need. He has, more than once, thought about walking away from their messed-up tangle of a relationship—the relationship that might not even truly exist. He's always been there. Helping her. Saving her. And loving her. But lately he has grown bored watching her going back and forth between him and Morelli. And he knew he would have no problem letting go and moving on even though he'd remain emotionally attached to her. Love is never that necessary for him, truth be told. He's a mercenary. A soldier of fortune. An active opportunist. He's not the kind of man who allows himself to be trapped in memories and impossible dreams. He will concentrate and survive with or without the woman he loves...

"What the hell has been going on between you and Stephanie?"

He thinks of the dozens of messages Morelli left him. He recalls the barely suppressed anger and growing frustration in Morelli's voice. He never really understands the on-and-off unhealthy relationship between Morelli and Stephanie, and he never likes their twisted, ugly history. He didn't return any of the calls because he had been busy. He had business arrangements to make and jobs to do. Besides, he knew everything—Stephanie, that is—was peachy and fine back here in Trenton. He wasn't interested in wasting time and energy on an Italian Stud Muffin who chose to stay oblivious to an undeniable fact all these years. But he was curious and intrigued enough to decide to pay Stephanie a visit when Morelli left yet another furious message this morning. He looks into her clear blue eyes and almost smiles.

_What now? _Her vulnerable and uncertain eyes silently and anxiously asks.

All is fair in love and war. He cups her face in his hand. And he's glad he didn't change his mind at the last minute. "Congratulations, you have found the Bat Cave, Stephanie."

And once she finds the Bat Cave, it's forever.


	7. Bright Dawn

**Bright Dawn  
**

He sits behind the wheel of his dark silver Honda Pilot fuming. He has every right in the Goddamn world to be pissed. Life as a police detective is not easy. Facing violence and danger has become a part of his daily life. Anger, distress and frustration pile up too quickly. And criminals walk away without paying the right price too easily. Sometimes he just want to give in to the temptation and shoot those scums between their eyes to avenge justice. Sometimes he just wants to drown his sorrows with cigarettes and beer. Sometimes he just wants to hide in someone's arms and forget all the cruelty and darkness he has witnessed. He tries his best to rein in his temper and raging emotions every day. His mother and aunts lighten his invisible burden with homemade cuisine and home-baked goodies. His brother and cousins ease his mood with jokes, funny stories, and small talk. His dog wiggles its tail and happily licks his face when he comes home after a long day's work. But his on-and-off relationship with Stephanie is simply not helping.

He wonders why he bothers to love her. She's not exactly the woman in every man's dream. She doesn't cook. She doesn't clean. She hates being told what to do as much as she hates doing laundry. And though she's cute, sexy and pretty, somehow she just can't live under the same roof with him for more than 3 months. She becomes antsy when the "deadline" is near. She intentionally starts a fight with him over nothing, grabs her rat and things, and storms back to her shabby apartment. Then when her narrow queen size bed becomes too cold and too lonely, she will suddenly come back to him as if nothing ever happened.

But this time it's different. Something in her has changed.

She kicked him out of her bed for no apparent reason at all that night. She changed her locks the very next day. She wouldn't return his calls or answer her door. She turned around and marched out of the door the moment she saw him at her mother's dining table or at Pino's. And when they ran into each other at the police station or on the street, she treated him as if he doesn't exist. She wouldn't even talk to him. And way she behaved made everyone in the whole Trenton believed that it was something he'd done. Soon his limited patience ran out. His confusion morphed into anger. He did nothing wrong, he was sure of that. And that left only one possible explanation.

Ranger.

He stares at the space in front of him but sees nothing. He will be lying shamelessly if he says he knows nothing about Ranger and Stephanie. He sees the attraction between them all the time. He sees the blush on Stephanie's face whenever Ranger smiles that annoying barely there smile and says "Babe". He hates that blush. He hates that Cheshire Cat smile. He hates that "Babe" with all his heart. So he made a stupid mistake one night and decided to call Ranger and ask for an explanation. He knew he was being foolish. He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew he was being pathetic. But he was too angry and too humiliated. He had been losing sleep. He felt restless and agitated. He couldn't concentrate on his job and life. He hated Ranger for not returning his calls. So like a stubborn child he kept calling Ranger and leaving messages. He stopped coming over for the Plums' Friday dinner. He was this close to stopping going to Pino's for pizzas and subs. But he couldn't stop wanting, loving and needing Stephanie Plum. And he couldn't stop hating himself for that.

"What the hell has been going on between you and Stephanie?"

Joe Morelli thinks of the message he left this morning and once again feels like an idiot. He can still taste the burning bitterness on his tongue. The despair he felt has corroded a gaping hole in his exhausted bleeding heart. He exhales a resigned sigh and starts the car. Sooner or later he's going to have a face-to-face chat with the thief who has stolen Stephanie's heart. But he'll have to confront Stephanie first. They need to talk things through without lying to themselves or holding anything back like rational adults.

And what time is better than now?


	8. Blazing Sun

** Blazing Sun**

He sits on her couch talking into his cell phone while she packs. Yes, he has the rest of the day off. No, she really doesn't need his help packing her lingerie, thank you very much. They are moving in together. She doesn't know if she's more excited or nervous. She wants to be wherever he is. She loves his 7th-floor apartment. He wants her to give up her apartment. They both know it's not safe here. She agrees to his demand. She doesn't want to be his burden. She doesn't want him to constantly worry about her safety. She won't miss her ugly bathroom or the wobbly elevator. She can't wait to get rid of her narrow queen size bed. She recalls the night she tackled him to the floor and the passionate, demanding kiss that followed. She recalls the silent, powerful emotion in his almost black eyes when he proposed the deal. She recalls the first night they spent together. She recalls the mornings when she woke up tangled with him. This small apartment holds so many memories. She's going to miss having her own place. But there are also things she wants to forget.

She almost died the night he walked in and got shot.

She had sex in the very same bed with another man.

She needs to have a clean start and leave all the unpleasant memories behind, she has decided. For tonight will be the first night of the rest of their life.

She's neither naïve nor delusional. She knows they'll have some trouble fitting seamlessly into each other's life. They will do their best and make it work, she's sure of that. He will be a part of her life. She will evict the insecurity and uncertainty she always feels from the core of her being. And maybe she should take his advice: just pack an overnight bag and come back for the rest of the stuff. She's not a good organizer. She's never good at packing. She gets tired and distracted too easily. Now she feels like a chipmunk preparing for winter. All the bottles of makeup and hair products and shoes and clothes are making her dizzy. Or maybe she's just so happy that her head won't stop spinning...

The doorbell rings. For some unknown reason her heartbeat quickens. She becomes more uneasy as the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach grows. She stands up and walks out of her bedroom. She hears the door open. She stops dead. Joe Morelli, the last man she wants to see, is standing right here at her apartment door staring poisoned daggers at Ranger. The air is thick with tension. The silence is deafening. Anger and panic rise inside her at the same time. She clenches her fists.

What does she need to do to make him go away? What does she need to do to make him understand? They are over now. There is nothing left. She has already let go. Why can't he just move on? Why does he always have to come back and haunt her? Why couldn't he stay in the Navy? Why didn't he move to Guam or Japan or permanently after he left the Navy? Why Couldn't he join LAPD or NYPD? Why did he have to come back to Trenton? Why couldn't he leave his nest and find his sky? And why the hell did she yield herself to him over and over again so easily? Why the hell was she so stupid? How could anyone be that stupid? She tries to take a step forward, her blood raging in her ears. She wants to scream in Joe's face and tell him to go away. She wants to run back to her room, jump onto her bed and pull the blanket over her head. She wants to smack Joe hard on the head. She wants to hide behind Ranger's back. She narrows her eyes and thins her lips as the cold but familiar voice sounds.

"So," Joe Morelli says through clenched teeth. "You have been cheating on me, Stephanie."

Then he draws back his arm and swing his fist at Ranger with lightning speed.


	9. Perfect Storm

**Perfect Storm**

He knows it is a stupid move. He knows it is a foolish mistake. He knows there will be a consequence and the consequence won't be pleasant. But he doesn't care. He's too angry to give a damn. Something inside him exploded the moment his eyes fell on the all the familiar shining black Porsche in her parking lot. He will never be able to afford a car like this. He will never have his own company. He will never have that perfect body or that much money. He will always be himself. He can only be himself. He's always the hunter. He will never be the loser. He can't and won't change for anyone else. Not even for the woman he thinks he loves.

The woman who has been cheating on him.

The woman who left him no choice but to admit that he has been cheating himself.

The truth has been staring him in the face for a long, long time. And now he can no longer look away and pretend there's nothing there. So he draws back his arm and swing his fist at Ranger with lightning speed. He wants a taste of revenge. He wants his little triumph. It's about pride. It's about trust. It's about love. It's about hurt and betrayal. It's about sharing your goddamn life with an dishonest woman like Stephanie Plum, the Queen of Denial. His fist is blocked. His feet are kicked from under him. He lands hard on the floor face down with his arm twisted behind his back. He tries to struggle when the first wave of numbness and shock ebbs but can't break free from the knee pressing against his back. Humiliation slaps him. Reality sinks in. He raises his eyes and finds that he can't even look at Stephanie straight in her eyes. At least she's still fully dressed. He thinks to himself and almost laughs. How he wishes she had the guts to tell him the truth. How he wishes he can stop loving and wanting her right now. Why did he lure her into his father's garage? Why did he talk her out of her panties and take her virginity? Why did he write about her on bathroom walls? Why did he intercept her pizza and come knocking on her door? Why did he let her in his house when she needed a place to stay? Why the hell did he crawl back to her after Eddie Abruzzi burned her arm with a hot poker? He knew something had happened between she and Ranger. He knew he should've had let go and walked away. But he was distracted by the hot steaming balls-to-the wall sex and thus chose the wrong path.

He should have listened to his mother. He should have dumped her and started seeing other woman, obedient, cooperative, traditional women who are willing to stay at home giving birth to babies and taking good care of their husbands. But just like his father, he never ever listens to his mother. And now here he is, pinned to the floor like a brainless ordinary two-bit criminal at Stephanie's door by her lover. He closes his eyes, feeling tired and empty inside.

"You can let go of me now, Manoso."

He can hardly recognize his own voice. He sounds like a man who has just been drained by a famished vampire. The pressure on his back and arm suddenly disappears as Ranger stands up. Slowly and and gingerly he gets back on his feet. He looks into Stephanie's flaming blue eyes for a long minute and turns to leave without a word. No, he won't wish her good luck or says something meaningless and stupid like "Have a good life". She has made her choice. From now on she's no longer his business. He'll walk away and let her face the consequence. She's someone else's burden now. She's Ranger's woman now. Whether that cold-blooded crazy bastard will break her heart into a million tiny pieces is not his concern or business. Not any more. He will find himself a good, competent woman and settle down. He will be a great dad and an honest husband. He will be surrounded by family and friends. He will be happy and contented. He hears the sound of the door closing behind him. The gaping hole inside his chest grows larger. He forces himself to focus on the steps before him. He gets in his car, starts the engine and drives away. He doesn't cast Ranger's Turbo a second glance.

And no, he will never ever have any remorse or regrets.

Never.

Never.


	10. Moon River

**Moon River  
**

He closes the door and turns around, his breath even and calm as if nothing has happened. She stands there looking at him, her eyes fixed on the growing smile on his perfect face. She has seen him slamming people into walls more than a million times, but still she marvels at his cool and almost casual composure every time. Unlike her, he's always confident and sure of himself. Unlike her, he never ever panics and loses control. Suddenly she starts shaking slightly with anger and a little self-disgust as he walks toward her. Yes, she has made some stupid mistakes. Yes, twice in her life she had chosen the wrong man. There were nights when unpleasant memories and shame came back to haunt her and made her toss and turn till dawn. There were days when reasonable and unreasonable doubts and fear clouded her mind and made her feel that there was no redemption and no escape. The consistent pressure from her mother. The constant indifference of her father. The borderline rude prying eyes of her snickering relatives, friends and neighbors. The suffocating atmosphere she always feels. Not to mention her own inability and incompetence.

She closes her eyes and sighs as he gathers her in his arms. She knows she's too much trouble. She knows she's a magnet for disasters. But no, she'll never have the courage or decency to tell him it's not too late to back off the deal and go find someone perfect. Maybe she's being treacherous and selfish. Maybe she's being a coward. For the very time in her life she finally knows what she really wants. She loves and needs him so much that her heart may burst. She wraps her arms tightly around his waist as he kisses her on the top of her head. The comfortable silence eases her mood. His sole existence gives her strength.

He picks up her overnight bag. She grabs Rex. He opens the door. She stops and turns to look around her small silent apartment for one last time and say goodbye. She will come back for the rest of her stuff in a day or two. But it won't feel the same. Her status as a divorced single woman has just been updated and permanently changed. She closes the door and locks the locks and smiles up at the man she truly loves.

Their new life has just begun.

**~The End~**


End file.
